Treachery Unseen
by Becca the Great
Summary: Kind of a prequal to Sabriel. Touchstone did have a life 200 years before he met Sabriel. But was that the first time they had met? The Sabriel we know was reincarnated...Complete
1. Chapter 1

An: did anyone else but me wonder about Touchstone's life before he got turned into wood? What if in the books Sabriel wasn't the only time Touchstone and Sabriel had met? That was my inspiration for this story. I searched through my books but I couldn't remember if Touchstone's real name had ever been given. If it had, feel free to tell me ;) anywaz enjoy! Please review afterward!! gets down on hands and knees PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!! (I'm not too proud to beg!!!)  
  
Ah! The changing of the guard! How a little boy with tight brown curls wished he could join them. They had it all. The colourful uniforms with the swords and the marching. He could feel his little hands itching to grasp a sword hilt. Sure, he and Rogir had the little wooden swords that their mother had given them but the mock sword fights they had never lasted long. Rogir would start complaining and suggest that they find a different game to play. Even though he didn't really want to, Torrigan would just shrug and sheath his sword in his belt and go along with whatever Rogir said.  
  
He sighed as he leaned against the window sill. His tutor was going on about some war that happened at sometime in some odd place. Normally he was a good student but he just could not focus today. Rogir was sitting straight. His attention on the tutor. To the casual observer Rogir was the ideal pupil, but Torrigan knew better. Rogir was probably thinking up some scheme or trick that would be a lot of fun but most definitely get them into some kind of trouble.  
  
"Torrigan!" the sharp voice of his tutor cut through his reverie, "do you intend to daydream through the day?" Instead of responding with some smart aleck comment Torrigan turned my attention back on the tutor. What was it Rogir always called him? Oh yes! Captain Boring. Torrigan smiled in remembrance and paid attention for the rest of the class.  
  
Several days later, it was the day of Midsummer's Eve and everyone of the palace servants were shuffling to and fro with decorations of flowers and some with steaming pots of food. The Queen had wanted a feast like no other. Rumor had it that many important dignitaries from all over the Old Kingdom and some from across the Sea where coming. The Abhorsen had of course been invited but was unsure if the Dead would stay in death long enough for him to join in the festivities (he replied with a chuckle).  
  
Torrigan was out in the Courtyard practicing with his wooden sword. This was getting ridiculous! He was almost 10 years of age and still he was not allowed to practice with real swords! He of course had pleaded to his mother who had flatly refused him. Maybe if I get good enough, I will be able to use real swords! The young prince had been dedicated to the fighting arts since he was but a tyke. Sometimes he wished Kerrigor was a bit more like himself. More interested in swords and other such weapons than in coming up with schemes. Not to get him wrong, he dearly loved his half-brother and best playmate but that love could not make the doubts go away.  
  
"Torrigan dear," one of his mother's ladies in waiting approached him, "Your mother wishes to speak with you." The young prince knew better than to keep his mother waiting so he dashed past the lady and up the stone steps.  
  
The Queen Rachelle sat weaving to keep her mind occupied. Her ladies sat gossiping happily about the newest handsome young nobleman who had stolen so-and so's heart. Some half worked on needle point, others finished up their dresses for the evening. Poor Torrigan was surrounded by such femininity as he entered his mother's chambers. He stared wide-eyed like a deer caught by the hunter, the few fatal moments before the arrow hit. Cautiously he inched his way over to his mother, resplendent in a royal purple.  
  
"Ah! Torrigan darling," Queen Rachelle smiled and reached a hand out to greet her son, "I have a special duty for you." This was a clever female trap, he just knew it. He looked around the room quickly. His two half- sisters were smiling pleasantly at him which drew up his guard even more.  
  
"What sort of duty mother?" Torrigan questioned cautiously.  
  
Queen Rachelle smiled indulgently at her son, "The Abhorsen is attending this evening and is bringing his daughter with him. She's not much younger than you so I want you and Rogir to keep her occupied with I talk with her father."  
  
"Yes mother," Torrigan said. Oh no! A girl! Girls just got in the way; they always wanted to play with their dolls when you wanted to play knights! 


	2. Chapter 2

AN: A special thanks to Cali Vianya for correcting me on Touchstone's pre- frozen-state name (he he!) Thanks also to WolfsbaneHybrid and rizzy for reviewing! Wolfsbane I made Sabriel as tom-boyish just like u asked. I also pictured her that way. Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter!!  
  
Rogir laughed mischievously at the awe-struck look on Torrigan's face. Rogir just had the pleasure of describing his latest encounter with the Royal Guard. This one had been huge. A masterpiece of the mischief-arts.  
  
"You better not have gotten caught this time!" Torrigan whispered, still in awe about the brilliance of his older brother. Rogir seemed to soak up this admiration with a confident smile.  
  
"Not to worry little brother," Rogir pronounced, "they probably have no idea that it was me!" He seemed a little disheartened about this fact but carried on none the less, "but just in case, we had better go to the Secret Hideout!" Torrigan laughed as he ran to keep up with his hero.  
  
Down, out of the light, in the reservoir, by the Great Charter Stone they hid. Containing fits of giggles they slunk along the wall. They were pretending they were knights searching for a damsel in distress. There was a deadly dragon guarding the damsel, they had to outwit this dragon instead of out muscle. It was Rogir's idea, of course.  
  
"Quickly now Nagirrot," Rogir whispered conspiratorially, "we're almost there."  
  
Sabriel tugged at the collar on her midnight blue dress. Stupid dress! I'd much rather be wearing a tunic and breeches like Father. The Abhorsen smiled down at his daughter affectionately as he adjusted his tunic of blue with silver keys on it. His bells were secured across his chest and he was ready to present himself and his daughter to the monarchy.  
  
"Father," Sabriel whispered, "must I wear this?" Her big dark eyes looked up pleadingly at her father as she held out the skirts of the blue monstrosity. A deep chuckle emanated from the Abhorsen, he leaned down and kissed his daughter's dark head.  
  
"I am sorry young one, but you must," The Abhorsen took his daughter's small hand in his and opened the doors. A wave of sound and smells crashed over the pair as they walked into the brightly coloured Great Hall. Lords and ladies from all over, danced and laughed. The walls were festooned with flowers, and their fragrances filled the air along with the tantalizing smells of freshly cooked food.  
  
The Queen Rachelle and her husband King Corrigan sat proudly as their sons stood obediently beside of behind them. The princesses were happily being twirled around on the dance floor as the Abhorsen and his daughter approached. They both bowed formally.  
  
"Happily met Abhorsen!" King Corrigan smiled down at his friend, "it is wonderful to see you again my friend." The King stood up and warmly grasped the Abhorsen's hand. A wide smile crossed his pale face as he returned the sentiment.  
  
"This is my daughter, Sabriel," the young girl shyly walked up to her father's side and stuck very close to him. Queen Rachelle beamed at Sabriel comfortingly and nudged Torrigan into action. The young prince grimaced as he dutifully stepped forward and bowed. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Kerrigor smirking.  
  
"Lady Sabriel," he said politely, his court mask covering his emotions, "please follow me, while our parents converse." Sabriel just nodded, not really looking Torrigan in the eye.  
  
The pair slipped out of the Great Hall. Torrigan had hoped Rogir would have come as well but Mother had changed her plans and preferred to have Rogir at her side. As they walked the halls of the palace an awkward silence fell between them.  
  
"Have you ever been to the Clayr Glacier?" Sabriel asked quietly, trying to make conversation. Torrigan just shook his head, his curls bouncing a little. A few more minutes of silence and a few more doors passed.  
  
"Do you want to play a game?" Sabriel said brightening a little, "like Knights?!" Torrigan stopped in mid-step. Did he really just hear that a GIRL wanted to play Knights? His favourite game in all the Charter?  
  
"Sure do!" 


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Howdy y'all! Hehehe sorry I was just watching Big Fish and everyone has Southern accents in it. ANYWAZ!!! I wish to thank Cali Vianya for her support. I loved your story by the way!! READ AND REVIEW!!!! I NEED INPUT PPLS!!! Enjoy ;)  
  
Many years had passed since that first meeting. When the Abhorsen was away, no longer did he have to leave Sabriel with the family servant at the House but with her new friends at the palace. For years Sabriel, Torrigan and Rogir were inseparable. When they weren't playing Knights they were pulling pranks or practicing swordplay.  
  
Then a dreadful thing happened that shook their world forever. Puberty. Rogir, the oldest of them all, no longer wished to play Knights. He would rather spend time in court with his sisters and, Torrigan shuddered to think, girls. He would spend endless hours in front of the mirror either admiring his reflection or fixing his appearance.  
  
Sabriel and Torrigan carried on as usual. They would wake up every morning, quickly shove down some breakfast, squirming the whole time, anxious to get outside and then not be seen until a meal was ready. They would go on magnificent adventures through swamps and enemy territory. Rescuing damsels (what damsels were they had no idea) and defeating dragons, spying on the enemy and foiling their plans. Sometimes there would be enormous battles that they would emerge victoriously from. No matter what the game, they felt the loss of Kerrigor.  
  
"Move **YOUR** feet!" The arms master yelled to Torrigan as he wielded his preferred double swords in defense of Sabriel's one zipping blade. Sabriel, being 2 years younger, was smaller than Torrigan was faster and used that to her advantage by darting back and forth. Furiously, Torrigan tried to land blow after blow. Many times Sabriel narrowly escaped his practice blades.  
  
After a few more minutes they both stopped, bent over and panting. The arms master seemed pleased, told them they were dismissed and left the practice courts. They collapsed onto the ground next to each other. They stared up at the clouds for a moment or two before Rogir appeared over them.  
  
"Come on you two," he said, holding out his hands for them to grab, "the Queen wants to see you." The two youngsters looked at each other quickly and shrugged. They had to almost run to keep up with Rogir's long strides.  
  
"There you are Torrigan dear and Sabriel," the look on the Queen's face unsettled Torrigan. He knew that look all too well, it was the I'm-going-to- make-you-do-something-I-know-you-wont-like look. He mentally prepared himself for his mother to drop whatever proverbial bombshell she had.  
  
"Sabriel, my, how you have grown since your first visit here," Sabriel attempted a polite half smile that turned out more like a grimace, she knew she was not going to like what the Queen was about to announce, "and I feel that it's time you became a proper young lady and your father agrees with me." Sabriel's jaw dropped.  
  
"P-p-p-proper young lady?!?" she sputtered. Did that mean she would have to walk with books on her head, sip daintily from a tea cup and smile all the time? She suppressed a shudder at the thought of such inhuman behavior. What did becoming a proper young lady have to do with her dreams of being a Knight or Abhorsen like her father?  
  
The Queen giggled, "Yes dear, a proper young lady, I have left this sort of education far too long as it is. You are almost at the marrying age! You will never get a good husband if you continue playing silly games."  
  
"They are not silly!" Torrigan protested, "She can almost beat me in swordplay Mother! Her and I are to become knights and rid the Old Kingdom of evil!"  
  
"Charter bless me!" the Queen cried, with a smile, "what wild imaginations you have! Torrigan dearest, I have something special planned for you."  
  
And so it was. Torrigan and Sabriel were spilt up. Torrigan went into service with the Royal Guard and Sabriel to a College for Ladies of Breeding. Torrigan adored learned swordplay and Charter magic. Sabriel on the other hand loathed almost every moment in that hellhole. Curtsying and walking, no wait, gliding, her only escape was the fighting arts and magic classes she was allowed to participate in. Many years had passed and Torrigan and Sabriel were far too busy to keep up communications. 


	4. Chapter 4 inspiring chapter names no?

AN: And we're back with another installment of the gripping thriller (cackles eccentrically) Treachery Unseen. In the last episode Torrigan and Sabriel were tragically split apart by the well-meaning Queen Rachelle. Ten years have passed and well....if I tell u anymore it'll ruin the chapter so READ AND REVIEW!! I would like to thank Tears Washed Away and Cali Vianya for reviewing! Thanks for the input guys! Enjoy!  
  
Torrigan stretched lazily. It was his day off from Guard duty and he was planning on enjoying every minute of it. The extra sleep was much needed but he was starting to feel useless. The sunlight poured into the room like a stream of gold and it was all the encouragement needed to persuade Torrigan to jump out of bed.  
  
His chamber was small with just the necessities. Simple linen curtains were draped on either end of the window. A simple wooden dresser and wardrobe stood in the farthest corner from the door. A rush mat gave the feet some relief from the cold stone beside the bed. He had not wanted any special treatment because of his status.  
  
The young man (for that is what he was now) did a few quick stretches to loosen his muscles. His curls were especially irritating at this point in time. They would always fall into his eyes and he would have to brush them away and begin his exercise again only to repeat the process. Now! Off to the Practice Courts! Maybe he would challenge some of the others to a duel. A boyish grin slid on his face at the thought.  
  
A young woman with raven wing hair and haunting dark eyes smiled mischievously as she whispered a charter mark for sleep over the breakfast for the staff at the Belisaere College for Ladies of Breeding. This was her last day and she was finally going to have a little fun. To her teachers she was a model of grace and poise. She never slurped her tea and always sat with her shoulders back and her back straight. In the fighting ring she was a fierce competitor and a proficient mage. How little they knew.  
  
After breakfast she suppressed a laugh as she trotted up to her dormitory. The mental picture of the Etiquette professor face down in her eggs, snoring, was just too comical. She changed out of the confining dress she was forced to wear and slipped on breeches, a tunic and just for fun, a half mask covering the area around her eyes. She was going to test her knowledge and skill at swordplay in a more realistic setting than the school.  
  
With a throng of leather she tied her long hair into a horse tail, tossed on a pair of gloves and crept out of the school, a little extra caution never hurt. Her father had taught her that. She quickly made her way to the Practice Courts in the palace. She wove her way through the crowd of shoppers and merchants.  
  
The smell of spices and fish floated on the air as merchants sold their wares. Banners flapped in the breeze and the sound of laughter rung everywhere. Bodies bumped against one another as people shuffled through the masses to finish their shopping. Very few people stopped from their trade to see a dark masked figure dodge and weave.  
  
Sabriel breathed a sigh of relief as she reached the Practice Courts. She loved Belisaere and all but sometimes the crowds were a little overwhelming. The clang of swords abruptly brought her back to earth. Two young men were locked in vicious combat. A confident half smile graced the extremely handsome face of the tall blonde man. The younger looking man with tight brown curls showed no emotion as he blocked all attacks with his two blades.  
  
Sabriel watched in awe at the skill and precision of each attack and block. For a moment it seemed as though the blonde man would win but then the tides would turn and the younger man would seem to have the advantage. It went back and forth like this for a long time before both men tired and called a break. By no means was this duel over.  
  
"You've gotten better since the last time I fought you Nagirrot," the blonde man embraced this "Nagirrot" like a brother.  
  
"I will beat you one of these days Kerrigor!" Nagirrot vowed, smiling. Kerrigor laughed but it was cut short but a loud crackling that escaped his throat instead. Nagirrot's relaxed expression quickly changed to that of deep concern.  
  
"Kerrigor! Are you alright? What was that noise?" he bombarded his brother with questions, "are you catching a cold? What is going on?!" Kerrigor smiled at his sibling's concern and shook his head. He would be alright; he just needed to lie down for a while before this ball their mother was planning for tonight. Nagirrot offered to help him to his chambers but naturally Kerrigor refused and left the Practice Courts.  
  
Torrigan sighed to himself. Something had to be wrong, that was not a natural sound. He prayed to the Charter it was not serious. He was startled out of his reverie by a mysterious dark figure tapping him on the shoulder.  
  
"Do you duel?" the voice sounded feminine.  
  
"Of course, shall we place a bet on this duel?" The mysterious character shook their head and long dark hair swished back and forth.  
  
"Not this time, perhaps the next." Torrigan nodded in consent and slid into the "en guard" position. His opponent mirrored his movements. They circled around each other, eyes searching for a weak spot. Then Torrigan pounced! Sabriel was hard pressed to evade his surprise attack. She quickly recovered and returned the favor. Torrigan easily countered her assault. One two three Sweeping Phoenix! Sabriel went over the exercise in her head.  
  
Torrigan's double blades were glinting in the sunlight countering and attacking. They switched roles as often as Torrigan and Rogir had. Torrigan swiftly brought his blades down above Sabriel's head. Quickly, Sabriel raised her blade diagonally, protecting her head. Their faces were now inches away from each other. Torrigan smiled confidently before Sabriel surprised him and whipped her blade around in an arc, dislodging his swords and stopping her sword tip before it ran him through.  
  
Torrigan laughed, "Well done I must say!" He bowed to thank the puzzling stranger, "It was a learning experience for my pride I can tell you that!" Sabriel laughed.  
  
"Thank you," Sabriel gracefully returned his bow, something was nagging at the back of her mind. There was something extremely familiar in this strange young man. She looked him over quickly. Tight brown curls, grey eyes, a not exactly handsome face but not hard on the eyes either. Yes there was definitely something familiar about him.  
  
"Please excuse my boldness, but have we met before?" Torrigan asked, his head slightly cocked to one side.  
  
"You get that feeling too?" Sabriel asked incredulously, "I'm not sure, we might have." A bell rang announcing the approaching time change. Sabriel gasped, that spell would only last for so long! She had better get back to the College. She bowed once more.  
  
"Perhaps we shall meet again."  
  
"I look forward to meeting you again on the Practice Courts, next time you will not be so lucky," Torrigan promised with a twinkle in his eye. Sabriel just smiled in response and left.  
  
"TORRIGAN!"  
  
"Coming mother," Torrigan mumbled as he bolted up the stone steps. His thoughts fixed on a certain dark haired swordswoman.  
  
An: what shall I write next...hmm...the ball perhaps? Not sure I'm open to suggestions! Review 'em to me! 


	5. Chapter 5

AN: This ball chapter was inspired by my reviewers. (Thanks to all of u, I love hearing from you!) And by the song Bard Dance by Enya. Enjoy! (pSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSt: don't forget to review afterwards ;) ) Now u may enjoy!

This is ridiculous! I can't believe have to be the "royal" to watch over some snooty "young ladies" graduate from a snooty finishing school! I think I'd rather dig my own eyes out with a blunt object. Or fight a whole army of Hands! Torrigan fumed to himself as he left his mother's chambers.

He flew down the circling stone steps and nearly knocked a few servants down in the process of crossing the Great Hall. He muttered a hurried apology and slowed down. Maybe he could convince Kerrigor to switch with him. Speaking of which! That trigged his memory and changed his course.

He mulled over his position as royalty when a peculiar scent tickled his nostrils: sharp and not natural. He started, his eyes wide, absorbing his surroundings, every muscle in his body taut and alert. That was Free Magic.

Like a hound, he followed the trail to a large wooden door, ornately carved with a golden handle. Rogir's room? His brother must be in danger!! He slammed himself bodily against the door. He just hoped his best friend would be alright. Once more! Just once more and the door would give!

Torrigan tumbled into an empty bedchamber. The rich hangings that surrounded the large 4 poster bed were open. The bed was made and the washstand was impeccably clean. Torrigan cocked his head to one side in confusion. Just this morning he had been locked in combat with his brother. Where had he gone?

Sabriel resisted the urge to roll her eyes at some of her year-mates. They were twittering around the room aglow with delight. There was only one topic of conversation in the dormitories: all the handsome young men going to be there. It was sickening to even bee in the room. Glimmering fabrics caught the last glow of the sunset and the giggles could be heard throughout the college.

The Abhorsen in training left in disgust. After storming down a corridor, she calmed herself down and actually began pitying them. She prided herself on her independence. Why would your only goal in life was to be a decoration!? She could not wait until her father and herself were subduing the dead as a team.

It was a scene much like when Sabriel had first arrived at the Palace. Laughter and music drifted on the air. Colourful couples twirled gracefully. This was the dance before the official graduation ceremony. A tradition Queen Rachelle had started because it amused her. Servants were hurriedly placing steaming dishes on the long tables for the feast.

Delicate white flowers were garlanded in Sabriel's dark hair which she wore down. Her gown of midnight swirled elegantly with each step. To add a little mystery, she added her favored black half mask. For the first part of the party, at least, she wished to remain anonymous. She hummed quietly along with the gentle harp and watched her year-mates.

Torrigan sat with an air of pride on the throne. It was of course, forced. He had on his polite court mask, no sign of strain to keep his smile was shown. How much he longed to just run out of the Great Hall and find out who that mystery swordswoman was! She, along with Rogir's strange behavior, plagued his thoughts. Lost in thought, he did not even notice the head mistress of the college approach him with a graceful curtsy.

She was going on about how wonderful the Great Hall looked and how much she appreciated this gift from the Queen. She begged him to relay her most humble thanks onto his mother. She bragged endlessly of how proud she was of all her girls. What fine young ladies they had turned out to be! Only after Torrigan reassured the Head Mistress (ten times) that he would convey her gratitude to his mother, was she satisfied and left the poor prince alone.

Finally they were ready to begin the ceremony and good thing too, for Torrigan was getting hungry and impatient. Each young lady was presented a diploma as she reached the stage upon which the throne sat. Torrigan nodded and smiled as he was taught to do finding all this extremely boring. He continually thanked the Charter that this would be Rogir's task and not his, once King Corrigan passed on.

"Sabriel," this name startled a memory of his childhood. A girl he used to play with had a similar name. Her features were dull in his memory as he had not seen her since before he joined the Royal Guard. To his even greater surprise, his mystery swordswoman approached the stage. She was not extremely beautiful but there was a certain something about her that had him trapped. Whether it was her aura of power and purpose that she exuded or her subtle grace, he could not tell.

When Sabriel reached the stage, she took a deep breath and looked up at the people on the stage for the first time. She faltered when her dark eyes came in contact with a very familiar pair of grey orbs. Forcing herself on, she curtsied in front of Prince Torrigan and her Head Mistress. As quickly as she could without appearing to rush, Sabriel vanished into the crowd once more.

She scanned the masses for a sign of her father. He had told her, he would try and make it, but not to be angry if he did not. After all, he was the Abhorsen and sometimes the dead just would not stay dead. Sabriel sighed sadly. She understood of course, but her other less rational side could not help feeling a little hurt. Sweeping out through one of the arched windows and onto a balcony, her dark figure leaned itself against the railing. She needed to get out of here.

Torrigan sighed quietly to himself in relief. Though the party was not yet over, the worst part was. Now he was free to dance with whomever he chose or go and get a bit of fresh air away from the grasping Head Mistress, seeking favor with the royal family. People were disgusting at times. He needed to go out on a good adventure, just him and...Rogir perhaps! His blood started to boil excitedly at the thought of him and his hero out on their own.

He slipped out onto the balcony, backwards praying to the Charter that no one would follow. Sabriel was gazing dreamily out at the stars when she was bumped from behind. She whirled around in surprise.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" the young man spluttered, "I did not know any one else was seeking peace out here."

"No, no! Do not trouble yourself, Your Highness," Sabriel added as an after thought, remembering her place. There was something irrepressibly familiar about him. "Forgive my boldness your highness," the young man flinched, "but did we not play together as children?"

"Yes!" Torrigan smiled, it was her! "I do believe so! Did you not also come to the Practice Courts this morning?" Sabriel blushed slightly at being discovered. Blush!! She never blushed before!

"It seems my charade has been discovered," she looked down guiltily, "yes, it was me whom you fought."

"It was a welcome experience." There was an awkward pause between the two old childhood playmates. Torrigan built up his courage and asked her name. She in turn asked his.

"I feel as if I should curtsy here but I fear I might break my ankle," Sabriel said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. It succeed in gaining a laugh, "My etiquette mistress always swooned whenever she saw my curtsy."

"Yet I am sure your arms mistress was quite pleased by your swordsmanship," Torrigan complimented. Good plan Torrigan, he thought, she looks lovely in the moonlight. Then he slightly shook his head to rid it of such thoughts.

"As I suspect you superiors are of yours, if I remember correctly you were sent to the Royal Guard?" Sabriel questioned, fighting down a blush.

They chatted on for what seemed like ages and yet flew by so fast. Subjects breached were literature and musical preferences. Anything and everything under the Charter was discussed. Sabriel and Torrigan felt so free, talking to the other, knowing they expected nothing from them.

Just as the bells rang, announcing the late hour, a very unexpected guest rushed into the Great Hall. His dark eyes searching like a hawk's. She was not in this room, not the one he was looking for. He quickly checked all the balconies. A ha! There she was! Talking with some young man. Ooo, he was not sure if he was ready for this.

"Father!!" Sabriel cried as she turned around, sensing a presence. She ran into his awaiting arms. How he had missed his little raven. The only problem was, that she was no longer little.

Torrigan tactfully lowered his gaze and slipped back into the Great Hall to officially end the celebration.

"There is so much I wish to fill you in on Raven wing," the Abhorsen said, "but it my wait until the morning, for I suspect it has been a long night for you." Sabriel rolled her eyes as she expressed her opinion the night's festivities. She had her father in tears before they reached his guest chamber.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Sorry this took so long guys! But I planned out the rest of the story! YAY!! And I had major writers block for a week! UGH!! Anyway R&R !

A week later the Abhorsen left again, leaving his daughter at the palace until the more dangerous Dead were subdued. Sabriel was of course not at all pleased with her father's decision but complied with his wishes none the less. Queen Rachelle had insisted that Sabriel stay in the palace.

Torrigan found himself growing more and more attracted to Sabriel and it scared him. She was just so...different...dark and pale where as all the other girls were fair and tanned. She had a silent dignity about her.

One morning Sabriel rose early, dressed and decided to go for an early morning walk. The cool damp air invigorated her. Smiling to herself, Sabriel took several deep breaths. The feeling of dew on her bare feet and the warm sunlight on her face thrilled her to the core. She heard birds chirping in the large trees standing protectively over a small dirt path. Under lazy eyelids, she watched a butterfly float from flower to flower.

Torrigan kept an alert eye on the waking city, searching for any disturbances from his eagle eyes view. He smartly marched from one tower to the next. He turned to make sure that inside the palace gates was as free from trouble as the city. His sharp grey eyes caught a glimpse of raven hair. His mouth opened a little in surprise. What was she doing up? He had not expected her out of her chamber for another hour or so yet. Surely no one else in the palace was awake except for the servants. When was his shift over?!

Sabriel strolled along past the Practice Courts but decided against swordplay this early in the morning. The young woman was startled when she heard the crunch of gravel shattering the dawn peace. Swiftly she turned around to face who ever it was that disturbed her. Her stern features broken into a smile as she witnessed Torrigan sprinting to catch up with her. Instead of slowly down, Sabriel sped up a little, a mischievous smile played across her lips.

"Sabriel!" Torrigan cried as he caught up with her, "that was cruel!"

Sabriel blinked innocently, "what was evil Torrigan? I have no idea why you made such a remark!" Torrigan glared at her, it would have been fierce if not for his smile.

"What are you doing up so early?" Torrigan asked as they kept strolling, "I didn't expect to see you until midday!" He teased her about her sleeping habits often and without mercy.

"Well! Look who should have gone to study as a court jester instead of a Royal Guard!" Sabriel stuck out her tongue, "If you must know I was feeling the urge to take a walk this beautiful morning. Not against the law is it?" Torrigan laughed and shook his head.

"Such impertinence! That mouth could very well have you killed one day!"

"I don't believe it will, I'm only impertinent to those who deserve it." They wandered aimlessly for a bit in silence, some times exchanging comments on the ball last night (in which they danced only together) or the games they remembered playing as children. They talked of their plans for their futures.

"I have little choice in the matter," Sabriel said resignedly, "I will follow in the footsteps of my father and his father and so on. But really, I can't imagine myself doing anything else."

"I know exactly how you feel. Even though I won't be taking the throne, which I don't want at all, I'll have to stay close to the palace. Or the only traveling I will do will be on diplomatic missions for the state." Torrigan sighed, a sudden thought worried him greatly, "you will promise to come back and visit won't you? I don't my want my swordsmanship to become rusty." He asked, suddenly anxious.

Sabriel laughed, "But what if the Kingdom is on the brink of war with the Dead? I fear I won't be able to come back just to duel with you." Torrigan took her hands in his and looked her straight in the eyes. The expression on his face was very serious.

"Just one more promise," Torrigan whispered gruffly, "promise to come back alive." Sabriel was taken aback by the strange glint in his eyes. She had never noticed it before. What did it mean?

"I will try," Sabriel promised. Torrigan was content with this for the moment. He quickly let go of her hands trying to keep the mortified look off his face and kept walking, full speed. How could he let his feelings get the better of him?! What was it about this...raven that was so alluring?

They walked in silence for a while and just before Torrigan was about to say something Sabriel took her leave. She rushed away from Torrigan's side. She pleaded to the Charter that Torrigan's strange behaviour didn't mean what she feared. Oh! Why did men always have to make a mess of perfectly good friendships? Sabriel did not even want to think about it. She rushed to the Practice Courts to beat the stuffing out of some poor dummy.

As Sabriel rushed off, Torrigan cursed his cowardice. Hadn't Rogir tried to teach him how to speak to ladies? Why didn't he listen?! As usual Rogir was right about everything. Torrigan would have given much to talk this fiasco over with his older brother right now. But then again, Rogir had been acting strange lately. Only coming to the palace once every few months and never staying more than a few days. What was Rogir planning?

Apologizing to the Arms Master for the damage she caused in the Practice Courts, Sabriel raced up to her chambers. She quickly changed into more suitable breeches and a tunic of midnight blue. Before Torrigan could catch up to her, Sabriel quickly passed under the gates to the city. What better place not to be found? With all the people pushing and shoving and cursing, trying to get their shopping done, there was no hope of finding anyone.

After a few hours wandering the crowded streets, Sabriel decided it was time she stopped running away and went back to face the music. Leaving behind the aroma of fish, fresh bread, baking and sweaty bodies, the young Abhorsen in training, strode boldly back through the gates. Nodding to the guards, she glanced quickly up at the ramparts and dashed into the palace.

Another thought struck her mind. She wondered if the Queen had had any word from her father lately. He said he would send word as soon as he had sent this Dead disturbance back behind the ninth gate. Sabriel had decided that one week was plenty of time! Perhaps she was just restless, she needed to get out of this confining castle!

Torrigan had been mentally beating himself for the past few hours. How could he have been so cowardly!! Why couldn't he tell her how much he wanted her, needed her to be near him. He decided that the Great Hall would be a perfect place to run "accidentally' into Sabriel. Knowing her, she would have grown impatient at her father's silence and would come to Queen Rachelle to ask for news.

There she was! A determined look graced her features as she headed to wards the throne where Queen Rachelle and King Corrigan sat after just having dismissed the last petitioner. Bowing deeply Sabriel approached the throne. Torrigan stayed in the shadows, if Sabriel saw him, she might bolt again and that was the last thing he wanted. He pressed himself against a wall, half hidden behind a tapestry depicting a battle scene.

"Your Majesties," Sabriel said respectfully, "I came to inquire if my father had sent any news as to inform myself of his well being. He told me that he would send word as soon as he had dealt with the Dead creature." Gracefully, her movements flowing, Queen Rachelle placed her hands on Sabriel's shoulders.

"No, the Abhorsen has not yet sent word, Sabriel," smiling reassuringly said the Queen. Recalling a fond memory, Rachelle gently touched Sabriel's cheek, "it still amazes me as to how well you have grown up." Sabriel smiled back. She loved the Queen well, who acted quite like she imagined a mother would towards her. The Queen had always been kind and generous to Sabriel and for that she was extremely grateful and loyal to the Queen.

Torrigan heard hurried footsteps just outside the large oak doors. Muffled voices, they sounded a tad frantic and he definitely heard someone trying to catch their breath. One door was thrown open with a startling crash. A travel worn and clearly out of breath young man rushed into the room. His eyes wide with something that looked almost like fear. He quickly made his way to the base of the thrones.

Bowing deeply, just like Sabriel had, the messenger handed a note to the king, bowing again.

"Your Highness," the messenger began, I bring sorrowful tidings," Sabriel's curiosity was peaked, "The Abhorsen.... is dead."


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Hiya folks! sorry this took so long. i've been CRAZY busy. it's been utter maddness! but anywaz, this chapter i figured that it was too short, so i added to it. I hope u enjoy it! don't forget to REVIEW!!

For days after the terrible news Sabriel would not move from her apartments. Not even Torrigan would be admitted into her chambers. Day and night, he would wait outside her chambers, begging to be let in. He would sometimes loose his temper and try to force the door open but Sabriel always knew before hand when this would occur and she reinforced her door with Charter marks.

The cooks tried to tempt Sabriel out of her room by wafting delicious smells of all her favourite foods under her door. They left plates of magnificently prepared feasts outside her door. Nothing would budge the heartbroken Abhorsen.

"Sabriel," Torrigan pleaded, "come on girlie, open the door, let me in." He leaned pitifully against the hard wood of the door. There was no answer, only the familiar silence. Finally Torrigan had had enough. Summoning the Charter marks for Breaking and Unlocking, Torrigan's nimble fingers manipulated the signs quickly.

The door knobs blew right off of the door. Pushing the doors open Torrigan's eyes roamed the room for the object of his affections. He saw her dark hair blowing in the wind of her open window. Her dark eyes glazed over, her arms wrapped around her slim figure. There was a deadened, grief-stricken look in her eyes.

Crossing the room in two strides he wrapped his arms around Sabriel. Turning slightly Sabriel buried her face into Torrigan's tunic and completely broke down. All her strength was drained, she could not hold off the tears any longer. Relieving all her anger, resentment, sorrow and grief into Torrigan's steady embrace, Sabriel calmed down.

"I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye," she sniffed, "I could have been there, helping him! This never would have happened if…" Torrigan cut her off.

"Sabriel, there was nothing you could have done, you would have been killed too," he whispered soothingly, his hands doing small circles on her back, " I bet you tried getting him back from Death didn't you?" She did not have to answer for him to know the answer.

After Torrigan had left Sabriel to her lonely thoughts, Sabriel reinforced the door with stronger Charter spells and continued her hermit hood. Day by day, Sabriel lay abed with her blankets pulled up to her chin, her heart aching. She had to push everyone away from her now, before she lost them, just like her father. That would mean the Queen, her friends from the College, even Torrigan.

Her thoughts lingered on Torrigan. He was such a good friend, it would hurt her most to push him away, but she never wanted to suffer like this again. If something happened to him now, she did not know if she could take it. If she pushed him away and suppressed her feelings for him, nothing could hurt her.

It was the only way…

Sabriel's plan went into action first thing in the morning. Whenever Torrigan would come close to her, she would brush him away with an arctic glance and then completely ignore the clueless young man.

"Your Majesty," Sabriel approached Queen Rachelle, "I request to take up my rightful position as Abhorsen."

A stunned silence greeted this rather abrupt statement. Torrigan's eyes went wide with a mixture of fury and anxiety for Sabriel's safety as he swiftly rose from his chair, ignoring its clatter as it crashed to the ground. Before Queen Rachelle could answer, Torrigan added in his two cents.

"Are you insane?!" his temper was rising, as was his voice, "what are you trying to prove Sabriel!? WHAT!" he grasped her shoulders tightly. Colder than the Clayr's Glacier, Sabriel turned her gaze unto the unfortunate young man and calms peeled his hands off of her. She smoothly stepped away from the shocked Torrigan and bowed before the Queen.

"I believe that the Dead have had far too long a break, I wish to cleanse the Kingdom of those who do not belong here." Sabriel's pale face was void of all emotion but her eyes revealed a burning sort of passion.

"It's not your fault your father died! Don't do this!!" Sabriel coolly turned towards Torrigan, her mouth set stubbornly.

"And would you rather have me here? To wait until the Dead take over the entire Kingdom until we are overrun in the palace?" her shoulders straightened a little and her head rose proudly, "You maybe be able to do that Torrigan, but I am not. I will not sit here and wait for the Dead to come to me."

"Sabriel," Queen Rachelle said softly, "I will not stop you from what you feel is your destiny," before Torrigan could utter a furious reply to this the Queen continued, "but I will say this, please don't throw your life away." Sabriel bowed, muttered a quiet thank you and left.

"Mother!! How could you….why would you…." Torrigan said, he voice softly fading into barely more than a whisper. Queen Rachelle gracefully got up from her chair and embraced her son. Everyone in the hall slipped out to give the royals their privacy.

"I am sorry, Torrigan," she sighed into his hair, "but I had to, she would only be more miserable if I had ordered her to stay, try to have some confidence in her skills dear."

"Then I'm going with her," he whispered. The Queen's grip on her son tightened protectively.

"That I cannot allow. With Rogir away, you are the only heir there is," she continued reluctantly, knowing with every words she was crushing her son's love stricken heart, "we need you here if something happens to Rogir, and besides, we don't have a back-up for the Royal Guard."

They stood there for a time. A mother trying to comfort her son after introducing him to the cruelty of injustice and the tight choker of duty, just as her mother had done for her. After Torrigan's shoulders had stopped shaking, he took deep, calming breaths, bowed to his mother and departed.

"I had to…" the Queen whispered to the wind as the dying sun blazed over the horizon, losing its battle against the impending night.

AN: sigh tis a sad day hugs Torrigan poor kid! i'm such a cruel writer!! REVIEW


	8. Chapter 8

An: Hiya ppls! Sorry about the long wait. I should've just dropped out of school. Who really needs an education these days anyway? Just kidding. Anyway only another 2 chapters to go I think and then the story shall be done. ENJOY! ( pssst! Review!)

A year passed slowly and without much action. Torrigan went about his duties tending to the Royal Guard and becoming a silent and sturdy wall for his family members out in the public eye, which he avoided at all costs. Even though nothing was said, everyone noticed that the lively spark in his grey eyes was gone along with the spring in his step. The lack of his usually lively conversation was noticed and missed.

He did not get any word from Sabriel other than the odd letter telling him she was alive and headed off to some part of the Kingdom where he could not be with her while she risked her life. He worried about her constantly. He constantly longed to get out of the castle, or at least be near her, able to protect her. Every night he would lock himself in his chambers and just stare at the stars and the inky sky which reminded Torrigan of her hair.

One morning Torrigan woke silently as the sun peaked out of the east and began his daily routine of his morning warm ups in the Practice Courts. Grabbing a wooden practice sword he started light with a few simple maneuvers. Slowly working up his speed and flexibility, he traded in the wooden sword for his twin steel blades and unleashed some wrath on an unfortunate straw dummy.

Finally out of breath, Torrigan collapsed in the shade of a tree and helped himself to a swig of water brought by a servant, who bowed mutely out. His eyelids hung lazily over his stormy eyes and his curly hair was unkempt. His thoughts drifted back to his boyhood, when his heart was not plagued by unrequited love. He remembered the simple joy he took in watching the Royal Guards and playing games with Rogir. With a sigh he came back to reality.

His brother no longer lived at the palace, but out on the road, becoming acquainted with his future kingdom. The letters had gradually slowed from the steady correspondence to the odd letter every few months. With every letter and every day the walls of the palace were more like bars, locking him away forever.

If Torrigan were not so lost in his miserable thoughts, he might have heard the slow dignified steps of his mother. Her eyes were glossy and shining with unshed tears. She wanted to be the first to tell her son, it just would not be right coming from anyone else, and she doubted he would believe anyone else.

"Dear heart," she cooed softy as she gently placed an elegant hand on his arm. He started at the touch and looked up at his mother. "I have news of the Abhorsen." His eyebrows shot up and his entire attention was suddenly focused on the Queen. "She's here."

"She's here! Where? When!" he shot up like an arrow, eye wide and searching the Practice Courts. "Mother, what is it? Is Sabriel alright?" a serene smile graced Queen Rachelle's soft features.

"Sabriel is with the healers right now, she has returned to us completely exhausted and in need of rest. She also had a bad run in with a Mordicant judging by the wounds. It will be close, but the healers believe her body will be well again. They say that her spirit will need healing but they do not have any specialists…" the Queen smiled to herself, "do you know any one who might be of assistance?" Before she had finished her sentence, Torrigan had raced away to the Healing Wing.

There she was….by the Charter she looked pale, even paler than normal. His blood started to boil when he saw the scarlet soaked bandages that were wrapped around her abdomen. Her long raven hair, matted with blood and dirt, was tied back in a horse tail. Dark blue and purple bruises adorned her face while a little cut over her left eye bled freely. Torrigan's temper was quickly rising, on the fringes of his vision he saw red and he could feel the berserker beast rising inside him.

"Torrigan," Sabriel said weakly.

In an instant all this rage disappeared. In a few swift strides Torrigan was by her side, enclosing her pale hand in his tanned, callused ones. He smiled bravely for her, his eyes betraying his true emotions.

"Long time no see," he joked carelessly, trying to lighten the mood, "you will be just fine Sabriel, I promise." Pressing his lips lightly to her fingers, he smiled once again and left.

"Sabriel?" Torrigan said softly as the door creaked open. He stepped into blank stone room. The only thing that could be considered decoration was the fireplace. The room has a single small bed covered in white sheets that blew softly in the breeze coming in through the tall arch shaped windows. A small wooden chair sat occupied by the fire place, its occupant wrapped in a plain white shawl. Her dark eyes were staring blankly into the flickering flames.

"Sabriel," Torrigan sighed as he stood beside her, "come outside with me, the healers say that a little fresh air would do you good. We can take a walk in the gardens that you love so much. Or perhaps by the Practice Courts as a little initiative for you to get well again. I've missed beating you at dueling," his smile disappeared once he noticed that no reaction was given, there was no fiery reply. "Come on Sabriel, please talk to me. I know we did not part well but we are still friends are we not? We could even play Knights, remember?" Still no response. "You have to talk some time! I can be just as stubborn as you!"

He left the room for a moment, only to grab a stool and then proceeded to plop it right in between Sabriel and the fire. What he did not notice was a small white cat slip in with him; a red leather collar with a tiny silver bell was fastened firmly around his fluffy white neck. He curled up luxuriously in front of the fire.

"Hello…Prince Torrigan," the cat, Mogget, said with a hint of sarcasm in the last two words. "The Abhorsen is obviously very shaken with her recent….experience…. perhaps I shall have to dig my claws into her leg to force her back into her responsibility. But then again what is it to me if the Dead rise and take over the Kingdom?"

"Charter preserve us!" Torrigan whispered as the cat finished curling up. After blinking a few times in surprise the young prince turned his attention to the silent figure in the chair. "Sabriel," he said softly, her name gently rolling off his tongue, "what happened out there? Are you alright?"

"I'm unfit to be Abhorsen…" Sabriel whispered, "I made a novice mistake and it nearly cost me my life." Her limitless eyes filled with tears of shame and self-loathing. "It was just a single Mordicant, I've defeated them before. How can I defeat anything any more? I bet the Mordicant went back to into Death for a while just to brag and now all the Dead are laughing at me." She attempted a weak joke to make herself smile but to no avail. She sighed as Torrigan knelt down to stoke the dying fire.

"Sabriel…" Torrigan began but she cut him short.

"Please Torrigan; I just need to be alone."

"You have been alone a year, now is the time to heal with a…friend." If Sabriel had noticed the hesitation she did not show it, "now, you are going to get well again and I shall be here to help you."

So every day he would come to her rooms with a new book, or maybe a bouquet of her favourite flowers. He would talk to her for hours upon hours. For the first few days she did not respond, but Torrigan would continue anyway. He would babble away about anything and everything. With each passing day, colour returned to her cheeks and the soul slowly revisited her eyes to make them sparkle again.


	9. Chapter 9

An: One chapter after this to go! sigh tis sad, yar. OK enough with the piratey-ness and onto the story! Review!

Torrigan sat, fidgeting with anxiety, in the gardens surrounding the palace. Where was she? She was supposed to meet him here a full…3 minutes ago! He heard slow, deliberate footsteps approaching. Torrigan sat a little straighter, stretching his hearing to try and determine who the footsteps belonged too. They were too heavy to be Sabriel's and yet they lacked the characteristic metal clink of the palace guards.

"Rogir!" Torrigan yelled in surprise as he ran to greet his half brother, nearly tripping himself in his haste. The two embraced swiftly then held each other at arms length to examine the work of time. Rogir, if it was at all possible, seemed to have grown far more handsome but the carefree smile was still there. There was something else there, something hidden deep down…something screaming of wrongness. Torrigan was so overjoyed to see his brother again that he did not even notice.

"You old dog! Why didn't you tell me you were coming back to the palace?" Torrigan demanded grinning widely.

"And the ruin the surprise? Please dear brother, do not tell me you have forgotten that much about me already!" said Rogir with a look of mock hurt on his face. The brothers laughed heartily and sat down on the bench to catch up on old times.

Several hours later Torrigan and Rogirrek were strolling down the stone halls of the palace when Torrigan remembered his original reason for being in the gardens.

"I was supposed to meet Sabriel!" he said lightly smacking his forehead. Rogir smiled at his brother's absent-mindedness, but something stirred behind his dark eyes.

"She's back here is she? Last I heard she was tracking some Mordicant up near the Clayr's Glacier. Shall we go find her then?" Torrigan nodded and suggested they try the library, where Sabriel usually spent her time, pouring over maps and researching the Kingdom.

As they entered, the musty yet comforting smell of dusty volumes reached their noses. It was so over powering that one immediately felt the urge to sneeze. The two men quickly suppressed this and began their silent search. They passed row upon row of towering shelves all stuffed full with leather bound tomes from subjects such as swordplay to how to properly tend one's garden to Charter magic.

As expected Sabriel was found pouring over a map with a book on Charter magic laid open at one corner. Mogget lay curled up at the opposite corner, one eye rested lazily on the Abhorsen's face, screwed up in concentration. She was so deep in thought that when Torrigan cleared his throat she jumped nearly a meter in the air.

"Oh! Torrigan, you startled me," she said, slightly scolding, before turning her attention back to the map. Torrigan frowned a little; this was odd Sabriel normally would've greeted Rogir as well.

"Where were you this morning? I did not see you in the gardens."

"Yes well, I saw Rogir heading there and figured the two of you would like time to catch up." She said, not making eye contact with either of the two men. Again with the strange behaviour.

"Are you not even going to say hello to him?" Torrigan asked, annoyance had crept its way into his voice.

"I did." She replied shortly, not looking up from the map. A deep frown had slithered onto Torrigan's features and a look of curious anger gleamed in his eyes. He huffed in frustration and stormed out of the library.

"What is wrong with her! I mean she could not even pay us the courtesy of looking at us when she spoke?" he fumed as he strode hurriedly to the Practice Courts, hoping to blow off some steam, "just staring at that stupid map, she's probably been to all those places any way and I could have been with her but…" he stopped himself before he went too far. Rogir thankfully did not say a word but only kept the pace.

Dinner that evening held a light, practically giddy mood. Jesters were juggling knives or telling the most outrageous jokes, a minstrel masterfully strummed the lute as nobles laughed and talked as they nibbled at the delicacies of the Kingdom. Like that night so long ago, when Sabriel and Torrigan first met, vibrant and fragrant flowers tastefully adorned the graceful arches and long tables.

Torrigan sat at his brother's right hand, thoroughly enjoying himself. One tiny thing was tugging at the back of his mind though, Sabriel's strange behaviour. Why had she acted so cool towards him? Was it something he had said? Torrigan's attention was quickly ripped away from his inner reverie when King Corrigan stood up, his golden goblet raised.

"A toast to the return of my son, Prince Rogir, may he decide that his traveling boots are far too worn to leave Belisaere until we are sick of his company!" there was a roar of laughter and a cheer of "Prince Rogir" as goblets were raised and sipped from.

Laughing Torrigan took in the people around him. There was the lovely Lady Silvia batting her long eyelashes and young Lord Maren who had recently inherited his father's land and title. Further down his table the dowager, Lady Quinta Del Rosa was trying to begin a conversation with a certain darkly beautiful Abhorsen who merely stared out into space, a slight frown on her features. Torrigan made a mental note to ask her about this after the feast before Rogir pulled him back.

"What girl are you staring at Nagirrot?" Rogir said, laughing and clamping a large hand on Torrigan's shoulder while staring down Torrigan's view path. "Ahhh, why did I not see this before?" Torrigan was going to suggest that perhaps it was because he was never at the palace but decided against stating the obvious. "So the Abhorsen has caught your eye has she? Do you remember when you two first met? Did she first steal your heart when she agreed to play Knights?" he chuckled slightly.

"I do not know if this is the wisest choice Torrigan," Rogir said quietly, his tone deadly serious and persuasive. Torrigan looked over at his brother, slightly shocked, this was a side of him Torrigan had never seen. Rogir quickly put on his characteristic self assured smile, "do you if she even feels the same?" Torrigan did not answer and they passed the rest of the evening talking to everyone, except each other.

When the feast had ended and everyone had waddled off to their beds, their stomachs overloaded with food, Torrigan slipped down to Sabriel's chambers.

"Sabriel?" he whispered, knocking gently on her door. He slowly opened the door to prevent it from creaking loudly. He tiptoed over to her four poster bed and drew back the heavy black velvet curtains only to find that she was not lying there. He looked curiously around and saw her pale face lit by the soft glow of the fire.

"Hello Torrigan," she said softly, not taking her eyes away from the flickering flames, Mogget curled on the top of the large crimson chair, "I thought you might come tonight."

"Yes well," he cleared his throat nervously, "I do have a few things I would like to ask you about today." When she did not answer he continued, "Well about Rogir mostly. I thought you would be happy to see him, I mean he has been away for so long this time. But you were icier towards him than when you are in Death! Why?"

Sabriel sighed and turned to face him. "Torrigan, have you noticed anything about your brother? Anything different perhaps?" Torrigan thought hard for a moment, there was that moment at dinner when Rogir did not seem like himself, but time changes a man. Overall he was still the same charming, charismatic Kerrigor.

"Not really."

"Then I take it you did not sense the Free Magic that surrounds him," Torrigan stopped and looked incredulously at Sabriel, he felt like he had just been punched in the stomach and completely winded. A look of deep sadness entered her eyes. "There is something not right about Rogir any more Torrigan. I think he's been fooling around with Free Magic. You know Rogir; he was always attracted to power."

"Are you trying to say Rogir's evil now!" Torrigan felt his temper rising, what did she know about Rogir? "Rogir's the smartest man I know, he would never fool around with such dangerous magic! Not when he knows that the whole Kingdom will be depending on him when the King dies."

"Torrigan, please, listen to me," Sabriel said, trying a soothing tone, but she could not keep the worry out of her voice nor the desperation to make him understand. "I think the Rogir we knew is gone. The reason I was so cool today in the map room was because of the Free Magic I sensed, can you not smell it whenever he breathes?" Torrigan stubbornly replied to the negative and rudely suggested that Sabriel go to the Healers to get her head examined as he scowled deeply.

"You are just too stubborn you might be wrong about your hero!" Sabriel's patience has snapped, "Why can you not see Rogir is no longer the little boy we used to play Knights with? He is no longer even the good man we knew! He has been tainted!"

"Following him were you? Did he write you and fill you in on his every move!"

"You are so infuriating sometimes! How can you not see the clearest thing in all the Charter?" With a furious growl Torrigan stormed out of the room. Sabriel nearly screamed in frustration and started packing.


	10. Chapter 10

Many months had passed since that night. Torrigan regretted losing his temper but still stubbornly believed he was right. Rogir had not shown any signs what so ever of Free Magic. Sure there was something darker and more sinister about him, but Sabriel came back changed after she had traveled did she not?

These thoughts always came to him lately, especially since he began to lie outside, late at night and gaze at the stars, while just letting his thoughts wander. At these times his mind would often drift towards Sabriel and when they last saw each other. There might have been a reason for Sabriel's warning… but Torrigan was determined to have proof before he went accusing Rogir of anything.

"Nagirrot!" Rogir's voice barged in, "wonderful news! Mother has decided it's about time you got outside the castle for a while. She has purposed that you join us on the annual 'Check on the Great Charter Stones' trip. Do not roll your eyes at me good sir," he said playfully as Torrigan groaned and rolled over, "Mother says you've been neglecting your duties as a member of the Royal Guard and it is about time you stopped moping over Sabriel."

Torrigan had never told his family the exact circumstances under which Sabriel left. They would never know about the fight they had about Rogir. To their knowledge, Sabriel had felt the immediate need to go and perform her Abhorsen duties and that was good enough for them.

"But going down to the Great Charters? I think I'd rather be put on early morning watch." Torrigan muttered.

"I am just the messenger of Mother's will."

"I know," Torrigan sighed resignedly, then smiled, "there is no talking Mother out of whatever she has her mind set on…stubborn old goat!" Laughing Rogir offered a hand to his brother and pulled Torrigan to his feet.

The next morning Torrigan's ceremonial armour glinted brilliantly in the early morning sun. He stood strictly at attention, his stormy grey eyes straight ahead; he was stationed just before the plank that connected the dock to the long, single-masted boat. As the Queen and her two daughters were lead down a lush scarlet carpet Rogir strode proudly a head of them. Before he boarded the boat he gave Torrigan a quick wink and a smile. A few of the ladies that had join the small assemblage of the Royal Guard sighed and giggled as Rogir flashed them a quick smile and blew them a kiss, one lady almost swooned.

Rolling his eyes, Torrigan marched smartly behind his mother and half sisters. As was proper for a member of the Royal Guard, Torrigan hung back, away from the railing as Queen Rachelle waved graciously to those still on land as the boat rocked gently away from the dock. Even here, at the very beginning, Torrigan should have noticed something was amiss, it was a beautiful clear day with no hint of clouds, a warm breeze gently caressed their faces and yet no birds sang. Other than the wind rustling through the leaves there was no sound at all, as if everything else had been scared off.

Eyes wide with large dark circles under them and her hair tousled. She sprinted past the front gates and breathless asked for Torrigan. The guard only pointed towards the docks. Running at breakneck speed, she reached the docks just in time to see the ship float around the bend. Screaming in frustration, Sabriel muttered the Charter marks for swiftness and flight and began to follow the boat.

Rogir had suggested they stop for a pick-nick around noon before heading down into the reservoir. So of course the boat was stopped and the Royal family with a few guards sat beneath the shade of a large willow tree and began laughing and chatting away. Rogir glanced back towards the palace. The expression on his face did not change but the glint in his eye hardened as he stood up and excused himself, saying that he had forgotten something on the boat.

"Hello Sabriel," Rogir's voice was smoother than the ice at the Clayr's glacier, "so nice of you to drop by."

"Shall we skip the pleasantries Rogir? Or should I call you Kerrigor now? How could you? Using the childhood name to insight fear?" Sabriel's sword was drawn and her other hand lingered near her bells. A look of cold determination was etched onto her face. "And planning on using your own mother to break the Great Charter Stones that is not the Rogir I knew. How could you betray your kingdom and your family…especially Torrigan?"

"When did you acquire this information?" Rogir said, still smiling, deliberately trying to buy himself time enough to release his Free Magic form. In his human form, Sabriel could have easily beaten him without even breaking a sweat, but he was more than a match for her.

Before Sabriel could answer, Rogir was consumed in a small cloud of complete darkness. It was like he had been swallowed whole by a piece of the star-less night sky. Before the cloud had completely cleared, Rogir attacked. Sabriel's last conscious thought was of Torrigan and the soul tearing sorrow she felt knowing she would never see him alive again.

Torrigan caught a scent on the breeze. He immediately perked up and his eyes scanned the landscape. What was the metallic smell of Free Magic doing on the air? Surely no Free Magic form could have gotten into the Palace. The others in the party seemed to have also caught the smell for the chatter had completely stopped.

"Perhaps we should keep moving," Torrigan suggested finally and the party was quick to comply. Rogir stood smiling at the railing. For a moment he seemed to reek of Free Magic but that moment passed and the air was once again clear. "Rogir, did you smell anything just now?"

Without breaking his perfect smile Rogir replied to the negative and asked jokingly if Torrigan had gotten enough sleep the previous night or if he was out with the barmaids again. The brothers laughed and Torrigan shook it off as his senses fooling him. The boat was gently rocked by the current as it floated towards the Great Charter Stones. Once they were safely out of sight Rogir signalled the guards.

"What is the meaning of this?" Queen Rachelle's voice boomed with authority as her arms to grabbed and twisted viciously behind her. The same had happened with the two princesses and Torrigan. Rogir chuckled coldly as he watched his family struggle against their captors. Torrigan was starting to snarl and his veins were bulging.

"I feel I must at least thank you Mother, my sisters," he turned towards Torrigan, "and you, half brother. Without you, my plans would not be able to be completed. I did have another who would have aided me, but unfortunately she had to be…disposed…of." His cold, dark eyes met Torrigan's as he smiled cruelly.

Rogir quickly muttered a spell that stank of Free Magic and Queen Rachelle and her daughters so longer struggled but were put into a deep sleep. Rogir turned towards Torrigan, whose breathing was becoming laboured and leaned down to whisper in his brother's ear.

"Torrigan, I never told you that you just missed Sabriel. I believe she would want me to relay this message. Highness, I bring sorrowful tidings, the Abhorsen is dead."

The last thing Torrigan knew was a pure loathing, his heart screaming in anguish and the unadulterated rage that followed as his vision grew red.

Finis

An: Well lads and lassies. That was it. I hope u enjoyed it. I might do an alternative ending for those who want a happy one. But I may just leave it like this. I hope I've made at least one person cry or entertained at least one person. Reviews are always welcome!


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